One for One
by crunchycookies
Summary: Lizzie could see spirits and she's a news anchor for CNN. She met William Darcy in a taxi, who left an unfavourable impression on her. Please R&R!
1. Chapter 1

I edited some parts of it, thank you for all the reviews I received!

Lizzie's POV

Dark clouds are hovering overhead, and droplets of rain are already colouring the ground beneath me. Strange shadows are already beginning to form around me. I am scared. My heart is beating so rapidly that I could easily have a heart attack next. I am running as fast as I could, trying to outrun the shadows, hoping to leave it behind in a cloud of dust, like what happens in comics. Except that this is real life, not a drawn picture story, and that my life was at stake.

From past experiences, I know that the shadows would increase when it rains, and that it goes away when I enter an enclosed space like a car, with all doors and windows closed. However, buildings don't work, probably because they are too large. They will appear anytime and anywhere. At home, I would hide in my closet, which is big enough for me to stand in it. Once I dared to peek outside, I cracked open the door a few centimetres and the shadows entered. I remembered screaming. They attacked my face, leaving horrible bruises and cuts. I ran out of the closet and they followed me. When I saw that there weren't any in the closet anymore, I immediately ran in. I made sure the door was tightly shut and the magnets at the top of the doors made sure of that. Hot, salty tears were streaming down my face and stung my cuts. I sat in the closet, until I sensed that they were gone, which was the following morning.

By now, the rain is falling in sheets and I am thoroughly soaked. I am afraid. Afraid by the reality of this happening to me, afraid that I might die tonight. My feet is aching and my breath is coming in hitches. I know I couldn't go on anymore, even the fastest runners have their limits. My feet slow down, until I am nearly jogging. The shadows tear at me. I count to ten, took a deep breath and run. I never ran so fast before: so fast that I felt that I could outrun the shadows.

Perhaps it was the optimism, or just plain old luck: I see a taxi cruising along the road. Without thinking, I throw myself in front of it. I hear tires screeching before running towards the car doors. I throw myself into the backseat, slamming the door. The shadows are hovering around the car, trying to find a way in. I want to scream at the driver to shut the windows if they are open, but my voice wouldn't let me. My lungs feel painful when I try to take a deep breath and my feet are killing me. I remove my sandals and lean back. I count the seconds off in my mind before I speak to the driver. I rattle off my address.

Suddenly, I hear a voice to my right. A very masculine one, to be precise. I jolt in surprise. There's someone beside me? "Miss? I've been keeping quiet about this, but if you start rattling orders to my driver, that is just unacceptable." What the hell?

I calm myself before I slowly turned to him. "Your driver? Oh, please, the taxi driver does not belong to you. It's a taxi, for God's sake." I roll my eyes, my earlier close-to-death experience quite forgotten. I tap the driver on his shoulder, "You don't belong to him, do you?" The driver guffaw and say, "Nice one, I don't!" I smile back sweetly and shoot the guy beside me a dirty look.

"But the fact that you came into the taxi I was in doesn't change."

I keep a straight face and retort, "Would you believe me if I said I just had a close brush with a rapist?" I can't describe my satisfaction when I see the look on his face. I continue, deciding that a little exagerating won't matter, "He was totally distracted, I would say, when he saw me in my naked glory. See my disheveled clothes? He was ripping them off." I turn my head towards the window, fighting back a laugh. I can't believe he fell for it! Well, some guys are just too gullible. But seriously, that's gullible at its max.

I turn towards the driver. "Mister, can you please fetch this guy over here to wherever he was going before fetching me home?" The taxi driver smile and said, "I am planning to do so anyway. First come, first served, am I right?" I smile in return, agreeing. Then he give me an appraising look through the front mirror and mouthed, "A rapist, eh?" I just give him a wink.

"Hey, where are you going?" the gullible cum idiot bark. Literally. I just roll my eyes and ignore him. Manners, manners, where are you?

I feel a tap on my shoulder. Okay, he gets brownie points for insistency. I turn to my right. Looking straight into his eyes, I barked loudly, "What?" Wow, I suddenly realise, he have nice eyes. They are a dark, brooding blue with flecks of purple, so beautiful that they almost seem fictional.

I only realised I have been staring when I feel something being pushed into my hands. Heat rush to my face, and I immediately look down. Crap, did he noticed? Just how embarassing can that be? I cringe inwardly before noticing a mobile phone stuffed between my fingers. I stare blankly at it. Um, why on earth am I holding a phone?

"Your number," the annoying freak drawled. I want to scream, how the hell was I supposed to know! Is this how you ask a girl's number? I bet my beloved chocolate chip cookies that his love life is literally non-existent. Well, he sure as hell isn't getting my oh, so precious, number. I type a memorized series of numbers, hitting the keys so hard that I am surprised he didn't ask me to leave his poor phone alone. I am certain he thought I was eager to give him my number. Dream on, Mr. Charming. Oh, did I mention that I gave him the number of a deranged woman that lives right next door? How I got her number, you say? Well, one day, sometime around last year, I received a call on my mobile phone. I didn't recognize the number and I answered. Guess what I heard? A loud wailing, shrieking voice filled my eardrums and I totally freaked out. I immediately ended the call, of course.

The person, whoever it was, called at least twenty times a day for a whole week! No doubt I had her number memorized. Later, I found out from my mum that our new neighbour had a tendency of calling her neighbours (I think she gets the numbers through Yellow Pages) and screaming into the phone. I wish Mr. Charming good luck.

I hit 'save' without entering my name and pass him the phone, giving him a sweet smile. He give me a strange look. I lift an eyebrow, I wonder if I have something on my face?

It is exactly two minutes and thirty-five seconds later when the taxi roll to a stop. I know because I have been staring at the face of my watch, bored, but there is really nothing better to do. I see him getting down from the taxi, walking towards the grand doors of a building, an apartment, I later notice. He must be one of those rich people who looks down on everything and everyone considered middle-class that dared to show face before him. I scoff. Then why is he sitting a taxi? Probably because his chauffeur called in sick.

The taxi begin moving again and I lean back. Talking about sick, I feel rather sick myself. I could feel a headache coming on, and as if to prove it, I sneeze violently. I hear the driver make a pitying noise at the back of his throat and he offer me a pill. I am about to accept the pill from his outstretched hand, when he suddenly draw back and peer at me as though seeing me for the first time. I shoot him a puzzled look. He suddenly says, "Wait, aren't you Elizabeth Bennet?" Oh, he can recognise me. I can only nod before another sneeze assaulted me. "Oh! Sorry, sorry," he says, seeming to have realised that I am still waiting for the pill and hand me it. I see that it is Tylenol, making sure that it is still in its metal coating, undisturbed. Well, you can never be too careful. I swallow the pill with some water before thanking the driver. "No problem, I always have a strip handy," he replies, waving a hand dismissively. About twenty minutes later, I arrive home. Thank God it isn't raining anymore.


	2. Chapter 2

The next day, I wake up with a slight fever. I groan in annoyance, well, being sick isn't going to stop me from going to work. I stand up from the bed groggily and drag my feet to the kitchen. I pull open the medicines cupboard and grab a couple of Tylenols. That should cure the fever, I thought. I trudge towards the toilet and strip off my clothes before turning on the hot water at full blast. I smile, relishing the amazing feel of the water running down my back. Who wouldn't appreciate warm water on a freezing morning?

Half an hour later, I am already on air, reporting the morning news. I work as a news anchor and correspondent for CNN. Being a news anchor includes writing and editing the news for my program, one of the parts I like in the job. As a correspondent, I had reported on major news events from around Europe and the Middle East. I really enjoy my job and is one of those people who could proudly say that they actually love their job. I modeled for two years before realising that modeling wasn't my passion. My dad made me realise where my passion lies, and for that, I am eternally grateful.

By nine, I am already driving home, in my old Ford that my parents gave me when I first received my driving license. I live in a three-room apartment with Jess, my twin sister. Our looks are completely polar-opposites. We are both around the same height and have the same build, but that's as far as our similarities go. She is blonde and is one of the kindest people I know, though that does not mean that she's a perfect angel. She too have a side that only those close to her have ever had the chance to see. I have dark, wavy hair, with a biting deposition to boot. She is really fair, while I'm those tanned sort of girls. My eyes are a deep chocolate brown, while hers are light sea blue. Blonde hair, blue eyes, you know the drill. She have the features of a model, which always have me badgering her to try out modeling. I became a model all those years ago quite by accident. I was at the airport then, waiting to board a plane. My best friend, Charlotte and I were going to go on a trip to New Zealand, our dream holiday destination. I was just listening to my iPod, with my earphones on at full blast, when a rather pretty blonde woman came up to me and said that she is from a modeling agency. Well, that's how it started, I guess.

Jess, short for Jessica, is sitting at the couch stuffing herself with ice-cream when I return. I am rather surprised, Jess isn't really a fan of ice-cream, unlike me. I walk over to the couch and plop down on the plushy seat.

"Hey, Jess. What's the occasion?" I shove her shoulder lightly. She didn't reply and ignores me. I am doubly surprised. Jess is the sweetest girl I ever met and she would never ignore me like that. "Jess? What's wrong?" I hear a light sniffle. I begin to get worried, is she crying? I grab her shoulders and shake her, rather forcefully, I might add, forcing her to look up at me. I take one look at her face before immediately pulling her to my chest, muttering soothing words and stroking her hair. Soon after, I can feel the moist on my blouse. I don't know what to say, so I keep mum and just continue stroking her hair.

"It's Charlie," I hear Jess say in a soft hiccuping voice. Charlie is her boyfriend for almost a month and I had to endure her singing praises of him for the past few weeks. I wait patiently for her to continue. "He," a sob "left," a hiccup "me," Jess say in the smallest voice I ever hear her use before. She keeps silent for a while, before pulling away from me. All of a sudden, she erupts into anger, her voice steadily gaining volume. "How could he say all those loving words, then break up with me? I wouldn't have agreed to go an a date with him the very first time, if I knew what a cruel, heartless devil he is! He seemed like the perfect guy, I thought he was the one. I lived like I was in a fairy-tale during the past few weeks. He bought me flowers and little figurines he thought I would like on every one of our dates. I loved him, you know," she continues quietly, before adding, "but it's all over now. I will forget him." She ends her tirade on a firm note and pulls me into a hug.

"Oh, Jess," I whisper, my eyes filled with unshed tears. "Jess, if I ever meet Charlie, I will no doubt take revenge for what he did. He's an asshole and you can do better than loving this sorry excuse of a man." We stayed that way for a while, in each other's arms. Crying is the best way to fall asleep and soon, Jess is yawning. I pull away from her. "Jess, just sleep here on the couch. I'm not strong enough to carry you to bed, and I know that you've cried all your energy out. I'll just pop into your bedroom and grab your pillow and stuff." Jess nods, and says, "Don't forget the bolster." "Of course I won't," I shoot her a reassuring smile, before leaving.

I grab her pillow, blanket and bolster once entering her room. I go out to living room and give them to Jess, making sure she is comfortable before leaving. I, too, am already yawning, when my handphone vibrates in my pocket. I answer the call, and mutter a sleepy 'hello.' It is Charlotte on the other end of the line and noting my tiredness, she asks me why. I tell her about Jess and she is as angry as I am.

"That...that..." she pauses, trying to find the right words to describe Charlie. "Fucking idiot of a man! He deserves to be sent to hell! How could he hurt Jane like that!"

"I know right, that undeserving jerk!" I rant. We hurl curses about him for a full minute before calming down enough to actually talk. I ask her why she called, this late at night.

"Oh, okay... I going to a ball this Saturday. It's hosted by Darcy and DeBourgh Publications, one of the biggest publication companies, Stanley and Co. (Char works there) is invited to attend and I have to go, you know I can't back out on events like this, so will you come with me?" she had been speaking so quickly that my sleepy brain is having a difficult time catching up with what she said. I groan when her invitation finally got through me. She knows how much I hate attending balls. The dressing-up part is just too much of a bother. But I agree nonetheless, or else she would just keep badgering me continuously. "Okay, but you owe me one." I hear a loud cheer on the other end and smiled. Well, at least someone's day is not totally shitty.

YES! It's Saturday! I do a little happy jig around the room. Saturdays are my lazy days, the days I could go for long morning jogs and just lie down on the couch relaxing. I enjoy jogging, all those shadow-avoiding has made me able to jog or run for miles without breaking a sweat. I have always wondered what those shadows actually are. Only Jess and Char know about me seeing shadows and I totally intend to keep it that way. People will probably just brush it off as a joke if I ever told them. I hear my phone ring and I skip over to the dressing table to answer it.

"Hey, Lizzie! Still remember your promise about the ball?" Char chirps on the other end of the line.

"Yea, why?" I groan.

"Have you got your dress?" she asks.

"Well, I'm planning on wearing the dress I wore to your Christmas party last year, why?"

"No way! You have to get a new dress!" she sounds so appalled that I wonder, do I look horrible in that dress?

"Why should I get a new dress?" I ask her.

"We have to be the belles of the ball," she states firmly. What? Belles of the ball? "Carrot's going to be there," she says. Carrot is the nickname we gave to Caroline Bingley, Charlie's sister, as she have a penchant with wearing orange.

"So?" I pause. "Wait." My ears prick up. "Is Charlie going to be there then?"

"Yes, he's invited because he owns Netherfield Corporation, thus his sister is invited too. "

"He is _so_ dead," I give an evil laugh. Charlotte giggles and agrees heartily. "So, what's with Carrot? Why do we have to look our best?"

"You're so going to flip when you hear this. I went to this restaurant, you know Elegance?" I say yes, "Well, I went there with William and I was in the toilet in a cubicle when I overheard two females gossiping rather loudly. I could recognise one of the voices as Carrot's, her voice in so high-pitched that I can clearly hear everything she was saying." Char adapts a new voice, speaking in a mock high-pitched tone, "Did you see her? What she was wearing... I bet she bought it from Walmart. She probably thinks she could pass off the dress as a D&G's. And what a name, Charlotte. I would just _die_ if I had a name like that. Her name is just like her features, so dull and boring." Then, Char continues, speaking in a normal tone, "Gosh! I was so angry that I wanted to storm out and slap her in the face. Well, I did went out, but I walked out calmly and said in my very bitchy voice, 'Well, at least I don't need to spend a million on my face just to look moderately beautiful, unlike _you_.'"

"Way to go, Char! I totally get why you want us to look beautiful then. Count me in if you want to go shopping for a new dress," I say.

"I plan to go this afternoon, wanna join me?"

"Hell, yeah! And let's splurge! I so love that giddy excitement you get when you splurge on something real expensive!" I am beaming, when was the last time since I went shopping? What a life. 

Can you guys give me suggestions on how should Lizzie and Char take revenge on Charlie? I have one in mind but I would very much appreciate other suggestions. So, please take some time and tell me in a review! Thanks. xoxox

p/s - I edited some parts in chapter 1.


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